The Resistance
by antmuzak
Summary: Sequel to Black Holes and Revelations. Ophelia Pomfrey, eighteen year old healer in training, is pregnant with Severus Snape's child. Bitter and angry about his betrayal and murder of Dumbledore, she knows she can't trust anyone anymore. Nevertheless, she sets out with the trio to find the horcruxes that will end Voldemort's wrath. OC/Snape, Harry/Ginny, Hermione/Ron. Please R&R!
1. Uprising

_**"Love is our resistance**_

_**They'll keep us apart and they**_

_**won't stop breaking us down**_

_**Hold me**_

_**Our lips must always be sealed"**_

**-"Resistance", Muse**

**The Resistance**

**Chapter One**

***The OC Snape used to be one of his students. I am neither encouraging this kind of relationship nor writing against one, I am merely writing about it, so if you don't like it, don't read it. Thank you, enjoy!**

**Here we go! The sequel to "Black Holes and Revelations", at last! In case you hadn't noticed, there is a theme: all my stories in this series will have titles that are Muse albums, and the chapters are all names of the songs in that particular album!**

**This story will take place in half of Deathly Hallows. Because I'm going mostly by the books, rather than the films, the division will be where I want it to be, rather than where it is in the films.**

**I hope you enjoy, and please review!**

Ophelia Pomfrey could pinpoint the exact moment that Mrs. Weasley began to treat her differently. She could also tell you exactly when her baby bump began to show. Granted, these two moments were interchangeable.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were the only ones who knew that she was pregnant, at least, in the beginning. Harry was the only one who knew who the father was.

There had been a rather uncomfortable period where Ron hadn't spoken to Ophelia except to tell her when dinner was, or that he and Ginny were going to go play a game of Quidditch with the twins.

Mrs. Weasley had been so generous and warm, upon Ophelia's initial arrival. She'd cooed about how lovely it was to see her, and was she still seeing that secret admirer of hers? The woman had tended to Ophelia, telling her that it was too bad that she had such a terrible flu.

When the morning sickness had subsided, Ophelia took to helping out around the house. The aching feeling of guilt drove her to overcompensate, but Mrs. Weasley, although trying to be just as friendly and accepting as only two weeks ago, remained distant and awkward.

Some nights, Ophelia fell asleep, rubbing just under her stomach, thinking how strange and alien it was that a living thing was slowly growing inside her. She hadn't had any thoughts to terminate the pregnancy- that would be just one more thing she'd have to hide from the people she cared about-, but all the same, she felt no sudden sense of maternal joy.

Whatever person was inside her, they were the closest thing she had to Severus Snape, and, for that, she resented them.

Other nights, Ophelia forgot about her pregnancy altogether and fell into a violent storm of tears and uncontrollable shaking.

For the last year since Ophelia had become friends with Harry and his friends, she'd wanted to be strong and brave like them, but she knew she'd always be so much weaker than them.

No matter how she tried to look at it, her life was falling apart, and there was only one person to blame.

* * *

"Snape."

"Hmmph. What?!" Ophelia raised her head off of the kitchen table, looking confused at the Weasleys who were deep in conversation around her.

"Oh, dear, you've fallen asleep at the table again," Mrs. Weasley tutted. Her tone wasn't cold, but there was a subtle hint of disappointment in it.

"We were just talking about the news. Hogwarts has a new headmaster."

"What? Who?" Ophelia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, aggressively.

"Snape," Ron grimaced.

"Oh," Ophelia's lower lip quivered, but she held back anything that was fighting to come out, "I suppose that...makes sense."

The Weasleys gave her a skeptical look in unison.

"I only meant, from You Know Who's point of view," Ophelia mumbled.

There was toast on the table, and blackberry jam. She looked at it in disgust.

Two days ago, she'd thrown the jam jar, that she'd kept since Christmas, against the Weasley's shed wall.

"Ophelia, tomorrow is the big day. Are you still up for it?"

Ophelia frowned. She was tired of being treated this way.

"I'm barely a month in, I'm perfectly capable."

Mrs. Weasley blinked heavily, her mouth slightly popped open.

"I'm sorry," Ophelia sighed. She was almost ready to blame mood swings, but that was a blatant lie.

"I'm just worried, about a lot of things."

"Fair enough," George smiled, and Fred winked, "you're a ticking time bomb."

"Well there's that," Ophelia gave them a glare, "and then there's all this business about collecting Harry."

"Well we're all nervous, dear, but we've prepared as much as we can. Dawlish 'let slip' that Harry will be moved a different day. That will give us an advantage, I hope."

Ophelia nodded, staring out the window at the rolling hills of Ottery St. Catchpole, but didn't feel reassured in the slightest.

She knew that Voldemort was much too clever for them, and so was Snape.

* * *

"Today's the day," Hermione breathed. Her voice quivered only slightly, but her eyes were hard and determined.

She and Ophelia were sitting on the small deck coming out of Ron's room. He and Ginny were downstairs, getting ready with the others.

"I'll be happy to see Harry, but..."

"I know," Hermione nodded firmly, "we have to start thinking of the future."

"I know the wedding is coming up, and everything else. But I'm anxious."

"We all are," Hermione sighed, patting her friend's back, "there's...so much happening right now."

Hermione's eyes traveled to Ophelia's baby bump. Ophelia knew that her friend was trying her best to be supportive, but, like everyone, wanted to know what had happened.

Everyone wanted to know how Ophelia goody-two-shoes Pomfrey had ended up pregnant at eighteen years old.

"Listen, Hermione...I want to tell everyone...who the father is, but...,"

"It's your body, Ophelia, do what you want. We're just concerned for you."

"Harry knows," Ophelia blurted out, blushing.

"Why does Harry know?" Hermione furrowed her brows.

"It's a long story, it has nothing to do with trust," Ophelia faltered.

It might have something to do with trust. Everything had to do with trust now.

Ophelia wasn't sure what to say.

"But I'm afraid that you're not going to like me very much if I tell you everything."

"Ophelia, we're your friends, we'll like you no matter what."

Ophelia bit her lip sharply, tasting the subtle copper taste slowly ease into her mouth. Her lower lip was teared to bits at this point.

"Well I'm going to go check on the Polyjuice potion one more time. Meet you downstairs?"

Ophelia nodded distractedly.

Here we go, she thought.

* * *

"You're taking _him_ over me?!" Ophelia cried, gesturing at Mundungus Fletcher, the slimy little man next to her.

"Sorry sweetheart," Mad Eye Moody growled, "we can't risk anything in your condition, or something like that."

Ophelia sighed defeatedly.

"It's fine," Ginny grabbed her friends hand, drawing her onto the couch, "if anything goes wrong, we're going to need your healing skills."

"Right," Ophelia shook her head bitterly.

Moments later, Ophelia watched her friends leave her, and felt an empty aching in her chest.

"Mrs. Weasley, Ginny," Ophelia took a deep breath, "after all this, I'm going to tell you everything."

Mrs. Weasley's face flushed and she shook her head, rapidly distracting herself with tidying up the house.

"That's really not necessary, dear-"

"No, I want to," Ophelia assured the woman, "you've been so kind, having me in your household, and I don't want you to feel that I'm taking advantage of your or lying to you. Besides, what I have to tell you is probably a lot more important than you would think."

Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Well, if that's what you want, dear, then we will be happy to hear you out."

With that, Mrs. Weasley muttered something about preparing them some dinner, and went into the kitchen.

"It's okay," Ginny smiled, "come on, let's help make dinner."

* * *

There was a crash, and the girls thundered down the stairs.

Hagrid was collapsed on the carpet, and Harry was bent over, breathing heavily.

Ginny rushed to his side, looking like she might wrap her arms around him, but held back. Ophelia knew her friend was struggling to remember that she and Harry had broken up in June.

"Harry? You are the real Harry?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, wiping her hands on her dress, "What happened? Where are the others?"

Ophelia gulped, wondering the same thing. She knelt next to Hagrid, feeling his pulse and nodding.

"What do you mean? Isn't anyone else back?" Harry wondered.

"You're the first," Ophelia muttered, "help me here, Ginny, won't you?"

Hagrid ran a hand over his face, making an incoherent grumbling sound.

"How you feeling Hagrid?" Ophelia smiled softly at the big man.

Harry hastily explained what had happened.

"Don't have any brandy, do you Molly?"

Ophelia gave Hagrid a sceptical look.

"For medical purposes," he defended himself.

Mrs. Weasley went off to look for some, and Ginny explained that Ron and Tonks should have been back by now, but had missed their portkey.

"I'm they'll be back soon enough," Ginny added, though sounding uncertain.

Ophelia shook her head and searched through her healing materials.

"Mum!" Ginny shouted, and suddenly Lupin was supporting an unconscious George, and dragging him inside.

Ophelia ran to his side, bringing him to the couch and lying him down.

"What's wrong with him?!" Mrs. Weasley squealed, seeing her son covered in blood.

"It's his ear," Ophelia immediately realized.

She wiped the blood off his face and searched for bandages and ingredients for a poultice to ease the bleeding.

"We've been betrayed," Lupin shook his head, panting, "They knew we were coming."

They all shared a look of dread, and Ophelia pressed her lips firmly together as she tended to George. She had a good idea of who had done it, but she wouldn't bring it up now.

"Will George be okay?" Harry asked Ophelia, kneeling next to her.

"He can't get his ear back, if that's what you mean," she sighed, "but he'll be alright soon enough."

"Hi by the way," Harry greeted wearily, "looks like you're starting to show."

"Yeah, looks like it," Ophelia avoided his eyes, pressing her poultice harder against George's ear.

"Do they know?"

Ophelia squeezed her eyes shut, "not yet."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Lupin came by, looking at George in pity.

"Snape's work," he said.

"Snape?!" Harry nearly choked.

Ophelia's eyes sprang open, and her hand began to shake.

The others began to come in, when Fred ran to his twin brother's side.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" Mrs. Weasley whispered, brushing her son's hair out of his eyes. George was just beginning to wake.

"Saintlike," George murmured.

"What?"

"Saintlike...I'm holey...geddit?"

Fred laughed dryly, and Mrs. Weasley burst into tears.

"Hey," George reached for Ophelia's hand, "thought I wasn't your type, Pomfrey."

Ophelia smiled fondly, "I don't think I have a type anymore, Weasley."

"Well, thanks for helping me out," George muttered, drifting back to sleep.

Ophelia sighed.

"Trust me, it's the least I can do."

* * *

They sat patiently, sitting on assorted furniture and the floor, faces all looking gaunt and expectingly at Ophelia.

They were still aching after Mad Eye's death, and she could sense that they were tired, upset, and slightly mistrusting of each other.

Certainly they were going to hate Ophelia after she told them the truth, but if she waited any longer, she would get herself into even more trouble.

Lupin cleared his throat, "Ophelia, I'm sure whatever you have to say is important, but we all have things we must do. Bill and I want to collect Mad Eye's body..."

"I'm sorry," Ophelia sighed, "it's just hard to explain..."

"I want to start by saying," Ophelia stood, and looked each person in the eye, "that I admire and respect every one of you, all for different reasons."

There was an uncomfortable mutter across the room.

"And I know that whatever little trust you had in me before, will be gone soon. So right now, while it still means anything, I just want to let you know..."

She rested her hand under her stomach.

"That I'm sorry, and that I didn't mean to hurt any of you..."

Her eyes sought out George, and the bandages that bound the side of his head.

"Did you betray us?" Ron could no longer keep his question in.

Ophelia bit her lip.

"Shh," Harry elbowed Ron in the side.

Ophelia wanted to hug Harry Potter and thank him for everything, but she knew she had to continue.

"This baby...," she took a deep breath, "whoever they are...they're father isn't a good man."

She looked at the floor, trying to muster some courage. If only she were half as brave as any person in the room.

"I made a mistake. I guess I was young and naive. I...still don't understand a lot of what happened, but...I fell in love with a man who told me that he wasn't perfect. I knew that, but I...," Ophelia saw the confusion on everyone's faces, "but I didn't understand what he meant."

"Severus Snape isn't perfect," Ophelia added, refusing to see her friends' reactions, "turns out he's far from it," she laughed darkly, "I don't know what happened. But I loved him."

I still do, she thought to herself.

"You're telling me," Ron gapped, "that the man who knocked you up, is the same man who knocked my brother's ear off?"

"He killed Dumbledore," Ginny's voice quivered, looking betrayed and disgusted.

Mrs. Weasley's face grew very very pale.

"Hey," Harry stood up, "she didn't know. She was there with me that night."

The room grew quiet, and Harry held Ophelia's hand tightly.

"She fell for a man who manipulated her trust, and now she's stuck here, pregnant and alone. We've all done things we regret, I know I have," he glared at everyone, "but we're all in this together, no matter what. I think Ophelia deserves some sympathy and understanding."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, though her face rather pale, "we don't blame you Ophelia."

Mrs. Weasley ran to Ophelia side, throwing her into a fierce hug.

"I'm so sorry," the woman whispered, "I never should have judged you."

"I'm going to sodding blow that man to pieces," Fred spat.

Lupin shook his head, and Tonks gave Ophelia a look of sympathy.

"What a prick," Bill's hands turned into fists.

Ophelia gave them all a small nod of gratitude, but her heart was beating even faster.

They don't understand, she thought, they don't even know what happened. Ophelia wasn't manipulated or coerced. Something was wrong.

_"Dear Ophelia,_

_There is so much I need to tell you. But you must understand that this is a very complicated situation: so many things and people are at risk. I can't tell you it all now. But you must understand that, in my past, I made a lot of mistakes that I am still paying for now. I'm trying to make things right, but, in order to do that, I must keep my secrets as secrets._

_I know you're looking for me right now. I didn't stand you up on purpose, but I needed to leave. I don't know exactly how tonight is going to turn out, but I can assure you that it will be difficult for the both of us. I can't force you to do anything, and I wouldn't want to. But I hope that I can count on you to do one thing: trust me. I know I'm a hard man to love, and especially a hard man to trust._

_But no matter what you see or hear in the next few days, know that it's not what it seems. I love you,_

_Severus Snape."_

She'd memorized the letter.

So what now? Ophelia wondered, how was she going to move on?

**A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed Chapter One of the second story in the Ophelia Pomfrey series! Please continue to review, and remember that I'm always open to suggestions!**


	2. Resistance

"**_Love is our resistance_**

**_They'll keep us apart and they _**

**_won't stop breaking us down_**

**_Hold me_**

**_Our lips must always be sealed"_**

**_-"Resistance", Muse_**

**The Resistance**

**Chapter Two**

**So glad to see that many of my readers from before have found this story, and that I have some new readers as well! Please review and let me know what you think! I love to hear suggestions! Enjoy!**

"Watch out," Harry caught Ophelia's elbow as she passed him, "Mrs. Weasley's asking questions."

Ophelia frowned, wiggling her elbow loose, "what kind of questions?"

Harry shrugged, "Ron says she wants to know why we're not returning to Hogwarts."

"I don't see why that concerns me, I've graduated."

"Yeah well, she knows you don't plan on living at the Weasleys forever. And she knows you're in on what we're planning."

Ophelia pursed her lips and nodded, "I'll tell her what I have to, don't worry."

Harry smiled, gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, and shuffled off.

Ophelia sighed.

Ever since she'd told everyone the truth about her and Snape, things had been quite different.

It was nice that Mrs. Weasley had stopped treating her like a delinquent, but now everyone was acting as if she were wounded or a child.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, seemed to be the only consistent ones.

"Ophelia, dear," Molly Weasley's voice came from around the corner.

Ophelia held back a groan, and turned around, forcing a smile.

"How are you?" Mrs. Weasley's eyes immediately darted to the subtle bump that was barely visible under the loose jean dress Ophelia was wearing.

"I'm fine, thank you," Ophelia nodded, "and yourself?"

It was like they'd bumped into each other on the street.

"Oh, I'm fine, of course. Just rather busy with all this planning for the wedding," the frazzled woman threw her hands up in mock defeat.

"Well if you need any help, Mrs. Weasley-"

"Oh, really dear, you must call me Molly. You're like family to me now."

Ophelia smiled, this time genuinely.

"Speaking of family," Molly added hastily, and Ophelia sensed nothing good, "how's your mother? She's okay with you being here? For the summer, that is?"

This was the conversation Harry had warned Ophelia about.

"Yes, she knows I need a break," Ophelia put carefully, kneading her hands and trying to think of an escape plan.

"Well then I'm sure she'll be glad to see you again in September?" Molly stated, with a hint of inquiry.

"Well I'm not quite sure what my plans are at the moment, Molly. With recent developments, that is."

Molly was staring at the baby bump again, but her eyes darted back up to Ophelia.

"Yes, of course. I'm only asking because Harry, Ron, and Hermione have it in their heads that they're not returning to Hogwarts next year," Molly laughed dryly, as if daring Ophelia to not laugh along.

"Well..." Ophelia thought out a diplomatic answer, "I can't speak for them, but..."

"Surely, as someone who loves education so much, you wouldn't encourage this attitude?"

Ah. There was her way out.

"But Molly, Hogwarts isn't what it used to be. I hardly think Harry, Ron, or Hermione could get the education they deserve, at least not in its current situation."

Ophelia gave Molly a meaningful look and received a confused one in return.

"With Snape as Headmaster? They're better off sticking to what they need to do."

Molly looked as if she might question her further, but held back. Her face turned to a sympathetic pout.

"Well, I suppose you're right about Snape. But I'm still not sure about this whole mission Dumbledore has left them."

Ophelia nodded slowly. Neither was she.

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Ophelia grinned and gave her friend a hug.

They were seated around the table. Molly had promised not to fuss, but, of course, had lied.

"Oh Ophelia, I thought you were going to get me some sort of weird plant or something," Harry breathed.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not," Harry chuckled, holding up the bottle of wine she'd gotten him.

"Trust me, it's the best."

"I do," Harry said simply, but the words weighed heavily with Ophelia.

As the finished exchanging gifts, there was a knock on the door.

"Minister?! I-"

"Sorry to intrude," Ophelia could hear the voice of the Minister for Magic just outside the door and held in a gasp.

"I was wondering if I may have a private audience with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ophelia?"

"Well," Mrs. Weasley looked back at the four, who had paused around the birthday cake, "o-of course."

She moved out of the doorway and let him in.

Everyone else filtered out and the four sat down uncomfortably on the couch.

"I'm here, as you might have guessed, with the will of Albus Dumbledore."

There was a stirring as they realised what was happening.

"First, for Ronald Billius Weasley-"

Ophelia raised her eyebrows at Ron's full name.

"In Dumbledore's words..._I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it."_

Scrimgeour passed the instrument to Ron, who's eyes were wide with shock.

Ophelia frowned. Why would Dumbledore leave such an important tool to Ron? It wasn't that Ron wasn't worthy of it, but it seemed unusual.

Scrimgeour took careful note of how Ron and the others reacted, and returned to his papers.

He cleared his throat.

"Now..._For Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard, _in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive."_

The minister placed a small children's book in Hermione's hands.

Hermione took a deep breath and inspected, careful to leave her expression neutral. They didn't want the Minister for Magic suspicious of them.

"_To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill."_

Ophelia concentrated on the Snitch that weighed down Harry's palm. Interesting.

There was an awkward silence.

Ron fiddled with the Deluminator, Hermione sniffled, and Harry tapped the outside of the Snitch.

"However," Scrimgeour finally spoke, "Dumbledore left you another bequest, Potter."

Harry shuffled forward in his seat.

"What is it?"

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

"So where is it?" Harry demanded.

"Unfortunately, the sword was never Dumbledore's to begin with. It's an important historical artefact that belongs-"

"To Harry," Hermione insisted, no longer sniffling. She had that look of determination on her face that Ophelia admired.

Hermione explained how the sword had chosen Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but the Minister disregarded her.

Harry looked as though he might interrupt, but the Minister continued, now turning to Ophelia.

"You were not included in Albus Dumbeldore's will," the man began, tilting his head to inspect her.

Ophelia had figured so far.

"Then why, may I ask, Minister, am I here?" Ophelia delicately folder her hands on her lap, sitting up straight.

"The new Headmaster of Hogwarts- Severus Snape, asked me to give this to you," the Minister handed her a bag.

Ophelia ran her fingers along the bag.

"Do I need to open this here?" She asked carefully.

"Do you have any reason not to?" The Minister raised an eyebrow.

What a terrible man.

Ophelia slipped out the larger: a book. It was her copy of _Pride and Prejudice _that she must have left in Snape's quarters.

"Why would Severus Snape ask me to give you this?"

Ophelia stared the Minister straight in his eyes, and answered firmly.

"I left rather abruptly, I must have left this in my dormitory."

"But why wouldn't your mother pass it on to you?"

Ophelia flushed, trying to concentrate.

"Erm...my mother and I don't get along very well at the moment," she answered, now looking at the ground.

"Interesting," the Minister clicked his tongue.

"Yes, enthralling," Harry finally snapped, "are you done interrogating us?"

Scrimgeour stood, glaring.

"What, doesn't the ministry have anything more important to do than question minors on gifts given to them by a man they've only just lost?"

"You go to far, boy."

"Harry," Ophelia warned.

"What about all the muggles and muggle-borns who are dying right now?"

"It's time you learned some respect!"

"It's time you earned some," Harry spat.

"Mate, do you _want_ to end up in jail?" Ron hissed.

Harry stepped back, letting the Minister storm out.

Harry walked past Molly and Arthur who had come back in the room to see what was happening, and ran upstairs.

Ron sighed, grabbed his Deluminator and ran up after his friend.

Ophelia flipped through her book, but there were no secret messages. Nothing.

She ripped one page out, tucked it in her pocket, and tossed the book into the fireplace.

Hermione gasped, "Ophelia, are you sure-?"

"Oh, I'm sure," Ophelia glowered, watching the flames lick the pages into ashes.

* * *

Ophelia awoke, drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily. She wanted to scream.

She'd dreamt of watching Dumbledore fall of the Astronomy Tower again. Every time she had this dream, she saw every detail, every little movement of Snape's hands, and his expressions.

She'd thought about that night over and over again, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn't find a way to justify Snape's actions, and was beginning to lose any desire to do so.

"You okay?" Hermione whispered, turning over in her bed that she was sharing with Ginny.

Ophelia was sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

"I'm fine," she whispered back. Lies, of course, but she was tired of being asked that question.

Today was the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, but the sun was only just creeping up over the hills. Hermione rolled back into bed.

Ophelia felt a small warmth in her chest at the thought that Hermione would wake up just to see if she was okay.

She lay her head back down on her pillow and steadied her breathing.

They'd planned to leave tomorrow, early in the morning before anyone could stop them. She'd spent hours planning with Hermione on what to bring. The girls hadn't told the boys about Hermione's special bag, which Ophelia had stocked with all the necessary healing ingredients and materials she could get her hands on, while Hermione had stuffed with many books on horcruxes.

As the sun broke through the window, warming Ophelia's pale cheeks, she heard the sounds of the Weasleys waking.

She wanted to be happy for Bill and Fleur who were, after all, a beautiful couple. But something about the union of two people who loved each other just wasn't settling well with her.

The truth was, that no matter how much the Weasleys wanted to paint Severus Snape as a nasty, murderous man who had taken advantage of poor, sweet Ophelia Pomfrey, Ophelia knew that wasn't how it was.

Severus Snape was a man full of secrets and insecurities who had loved Ophelia, and she him.

Something had happened that night that Ophelia wasn't sure she would ever understand. But she knew that she wasn't innocent, and that the sooner she left the Weasley's home, the better.

* * *

"Molly, let me help you with that," Ophelia took a large vase that Molly was struggling with and walked to the tent where the wedding was taking place in less than an hour.

She was wearing her same pine-green dress she always wore, though felt slightly self conscious now at how tight it was around her stomach.

"Ginny, you look gorgeous," Ophelia set the vase down and got a good look of the youngest Weasley in her gold dress.

"A vision, would you say?" Ginny teased.

Ophelia smiled, "have you seen Harry around?"

Ginny's face fell. A tender subject for her.

"He's around here somewhere, disguised as a Weasley."

Ophelia nodded a goodbye and scanned the crowd of gathering people.

"Ophelia, you look wonderful!" Hermione greeted warmly.

"Thanks Hermione," Ophelia nodded, "hey do you have your seating plan yet?"

"Yes, why?"

"I dunno. Do you think it's a bit odd that Molly has me with George and some other Weasley cousins, and not with you, Harry, and Ron?"

Hermione shrugged, scanning the crowd distractedly.

"Not that odd, it's just for dinner. We'll see each other later."

"I suppose you're right."

* * *

After the gorgeous ceremony and a light dinner, most people were making their way onto the dance floor, or socialising at their given tables.

Ophelia sat down next to a man with curly red hair who she greeted with a silent smile.

"Looks like I'm the only girl at this table," she muttered.

"Looks like it," George sat on Ophelia's right, stretching his arm around her, "whatever shall I do?"

Ophelia rolled her eyes.

"Weird how only us two have red napkins, don't you think?" George snorted, inspecting his napkin, "did we do something wrong?"

"It _is_ weird...," Ophelia realised, "almost like they're conversation starters."

"Well I dunno about you, but I don't fancy talking about napkins," George yawned, "there are some Delacour girls I wouldn't mind dancing with."

"Yet, we _are_ talking," Ophelia murmured.

"Yeah, yeah. Well see you later, Pomfrey."

Ophelia nodded, grabbing the napkin and setting off to find Harry.

"Har- I mean _Barny_," Ophelia corrected herself, spotting Harry in his disguise, "can I have a word with you?"

"Sure," Harry patted the spot next to him, but he was distracted by a certain Weasley girl in gold.

"Ginny on your mind?"

"Wha-"

"Harry, you can't fool me. Don't worry about it, she still cares about you. Whatever happens next, she'll understand."

Harry sighed, "I suppose you're right. She just looks so...beautiful."

His face flushed and he turned back to his friend, "Sorry, what did you want to say?"

"Before Remus and Tonks got together, Molly was trying to get Tonks and Bill together, wasn't she?"

"Oh yeah," Harry chuckled, "that was terrible."

"Hmm," Ophelia fiddled with the red napkin, "and would you say Molly likes to play match maker with her children?"

"Well I recall a few times when she's nearly _pushed_ Ron into Hermione, so I'd have to say yes to that."

"Dear Merlin," Ophelia shook her head, "I think she's trying to get me and George together."

"What?!" Harry laughed, "now that I'd like to see."

Ophelia groaned, "look, I'm going to get out of here. See you around?"

"Sure."

* * *

"Ophelia, dear," Molly Weasley's voice stopped Ophelia in her tracks. Dammit.

"Aren't you going to be dancing?"

"Well, I-"

"Because, I thought maybe you and George could-"

"Molly" Ophelia began, "I really don't want to dance with George. He's great, but I'm not interested."

Molly opened her mouth to protest when silence fell upon the room.

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please review!**


	3. Undisclosed Desires

"**_Love is our resistance_**

**_They'll keep us apart and they _**

**_won't stop breaking us down_**

**_Hold me_**

**_Our lips must always be sealed"_**

**_-"Resistance", Muse_**

**The Resistance**

**Chapter Three**

**Sorry! I said I'd be posting these on Fridays, but I keep posting them late because I'm so tired Friday evenings. I guess that's what work does to you haha. Anyway, here you go, enjoy and review!**

Hermione was suddenly at Ophelia's side, grabbing her friend's hand, and calling out desperately for Ron and Harry.

The wedding guests were thrown into a frenzy, running past each other, and disapparating as quickly as they could.

Ophelia and Hermione ran into Ron just in time, all linking hands, as if creating an unbreakable chain.

Ophelia felt her heart beating so fast, it was the only thing she could hear. Her mind was blocking out all the screams, and her hands were shaking.

Where was Harry?

Hermione exchanged a look with Ophelia, and they understood each other. If they couldn't find Harry, they might have to take matters into their own hands. They didn't have much time.

But Harry ran around the corner, glancing at his friends, and then anxiously surveying the crowd of running people.

He's looking for Ginny, Ophelia thought.

"Ginny!" Harry shouted, but Lupin had grabbed the girl and was bringing her to safety.

"Harry, go!" The man yelled.

Harry stood for a short moment, collecting himself, but grabbed Ophelia's hand.

There was a strange sensation of shooting through a tube, and everything around them morphed into an unfamiliar setting.

The streets of London? Ophelia wondered and as Hermione shoved her friend out of the path of a Muggle double decker bus, Ophelia realised that her assumption was, indeed correct.

"Tottenham Court Road," Hermione explained, walking briskly.

Harry swallowed hard, and Ophelia could sense his pain. Leaving Ginny behind must have been very difficult for him.

"We need to find somewhere to change," Hermione added, her eyes searching at the little shops across the street.

A group of Muggle men who appeared to be drunk, whistled at Hermione and Ophelia.

Ophelia frowned, turning back to them.

"Why did they whistle at us? Does that mean something?"

One of them men winked at Ophelia and she gasped, turning back to face the road and blushing.

Hermione shook her head, and pointed at a cafe.

They walked in, approaching an empty table.

"But Hermione, I don't have my cloak or my clothes. I've left my rucksack at the Burrow."

Ophelia slid into the booth next to Harry.

"Not true," Hermione put carefully, eying the approaching waitress.

"What can I get for you lot?" The waitress was chewing a stick of gum.

"Four cappuccinos," Hermione said meekly, smiling half-heartedly.

Ron furrowed his brows in confusion, but Ophelia actually knew what Hermione had said.

Oddly enough, Snape had explained "espresso drinks" to Ophelia one day, as she'd been curious about something he'd muttered.

She shook her head, willing herself to forget.

Hermione lifted her tiny beaded back onto the table where they were sitting.

She explained how it held more than it appeared to, and Ophelia watched two large Muggles walk in, briefly catching her eye.

"So we'll get changed, and then we'll-"

Ophelia nudged Hermione's foot under the table, not taking her eyes off of the men.

"What?"

"Don't you think we ought to be going, Sally?" Ophelia turned to her friend, giving her a significant look.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, turning to look at the men as well.

Before anyone could really register what was going on, one of the men shot a spell at their table.

Ophelia dove down under the table, pushing Harry down with her.

Hermione shot a stunning spell at the man closest to them, but it missed and smashed the espresso machine.

Ophelia wasn't necessarily the best at offensive spells, but attempted a stunning spell herself, just missing.

Harry, an expert dueller, untangled himself from his friends, and fired at the taller man.

Ron and Hermione collaborated in battling the second man, while Ophelia slinked by and checked on the unconscious waitress.

One man fired a spell at Ophelia in between attacking Ron, but she jumped out of the way in time.

Harry's movements intensified, and he finally stunned the two men.

"How did they know we were here?" Ophelia breathed, kneeling over the taller man, feeling his pulse.

Harry shook his head; incredulous.

"Ron, turn off the lights and close the blinds," Harry commanded, trying to get control of the situation, "Hermione, can you try a memory spell? It's the best we can do."

Hermione nodded, and reluctantly whispered "_Obliviate"_, slowly easing the memories out the men.

Ophelia took a deep breath, looking at the men's faces. Odd, she thought. They were death eaters, people who wanted them dead, and yet, they looked so handsome and normal.

She wondered if they'd met Snape, if they'd been _friends_. She shuddered, wiping her clammy hands on her dress and getting up.

"I'm going to go change," she nodded at Harry, who was rubbing his temples.

She grabbed the jean dress that hermione had packed for her. It was cute, if a little big. She suspected it had belonged to Molly when she was younger and thinner.

After she'd changed, in a bathroom through the back, Ophelia looked in the mirror.

Her eyes were worn and red, and her hair was tangled and frayed. Her mouth kept quivering, and her face was flushed. She hadn't looked like herself since June.

She ran a hand through her hair, and let out a harsh sob.

How much longer could she do this?

She looked back in the mirror.

Ophelia, she told her reflection firmly, get it together. They can't afford to have a wimp with them. You are strong, you are smart, you are talented. You aren't that girl you left behind at Hogwarts. You're going to be a mother. You need to forget the past.

She nodded, as if in agreement with herself, and ran back out to help the others.

* * *

"Grimmauld Place?!" Ron hissed, as the four walked briskly down the street, "but Snape can get in there!"

Harry gave Ophelia a concerned glance, but turned back to Ron.

"Your dad said it's protected with jinxes to keep him out. Besides, we don't have anywhere else."

Hermione was reluctant, but supportive.

"Let's go".

**A/N: Sorry this is such a short chapter! Next chapter will be much longer! Review please!**


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